


let's go home

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Foster Care, Gen, Myriad Program (Supergirl), Orphans, Post-Season/Series 01, ahhhhh my descrips of clothes are priceless, i wrote this years ago and realised i could probably just leave it as it is, still a good read imo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2020-11-25 18:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (season one era; I wrote this a while ago so it is really not as good or up to my usual standard, but whatever, I love it anyway~~)People died when Myriad was activated.Children were left orphans - including Laura, the girl who Supergirl saved from bullies. Kara makes it a priority to help.





	let's go home

Not everyone lives during Myriad. Of _course_ not everyone lives. After all, it was only humans – and aliens who considered themselves humans – who were taken under the control of the infernal machine. You go to the funerals of the many dozens who died of unnatural causes during the attack, asking the families beforehand if you can, of course. Most welcome you. Some don’t, but most do. Most do.

You think the one that hits the hardest is the one of two parents, of _Laura’s_ parents – your Laura, your Laura who you’d called your friend in front of bullies.

Laura’s an orphan now. She’s with an adult she doesn’t know. You can tell without asking that she doesn’t. Your heart burns, because her whole world has fallen out from under her feet. She’s three years younger than you had been. Her parents are dead. She may not have lost an entire planet, but _her parents are dead_, and that will _always_ hurt the most. You know it will. You still carry that pain. You will never get closure for your parents death, not like you may for the death of Krypton. Krypton was your planet and it was home, but homes can be replaced.

“Parents can’t be replaced,” is what you whisper to her when you sit down beside her in the foster-home a few months later, watching the other kids sneak glances and wonder why you’re with the new girl. “Parents can never be replaced. When I was little, there was a giant fire. My only relative was in Fort Rozz – a space-prison, basically.”

She peeks at you at that piece of information, staring through her fringe. “Space-prison?”

You weren’t wearing your glasses, but you knew what other things like make-up and hairstyles could do for someone to make them unrecognisable – theatre production skills taught you that. You were wearing sunglasses out on the street – you’d pushed them up onto your head when you came in. Normal clothes, no blue or red, or even yellow. No black, either. Trousers, not a skirt, grey jeans and not blue. Brown lace-up boots, the leather kind with bronze eyelets. A white button-down, with the sleeves rolled up. A pull-over wrapped around your waist, leather jacket on a hanger in the hallway. You hold your bike gloves in hand, scarf still wrapped tightly around your neck. You’d had to forgo the matching hat today.

But Laura recognises you, still, when she looks closer. Her eyes widen before they become confused.

“Your eyes aren’t blue…” she frowns a little, lips puckering. You glance around the room, before taking out one of the brown coloured contacts.

“I usually wear glasses. If anyone asks, they’re to help me see rather than protect my identity – I’m on my bike today, so I can’t wear them under my helmet.”

“Oh,” the sound escapes her, before her chin quivers. Tears don’t form quite just yet, but her face makes the motions, and you put your contact back in carefully, before opening your arms. She leans in quickly, burrowing her head in your chest.

“Laura?” One of the foster-home attendants sees through the doorway, approaching before you motion to her with your chin.

“I got this, don’t worry. She’s just remembering me. We’ve met before.”

The attendant looks sceptical, “Laura, honey, are you okay? Have you really met Miss Danvers before?”

“Yeah,” her voice is muffled, but audible to the attendant, hopefully. You stroke her hair gently as you smell the sweetness of salt in the air, hear and feel the droplet fall onto your lap, soaking into your jeans.

“Okay…just call if you need me,” the attendant walks to the other side of the room, separating two young girls fighting over a plastic train.

You let Laura have her time, keeping a hand resting on her shoulder when she finally pulls away, drying her eyes subtly. Her cheeks are pinker than before, and her hands shake slightly. When her hair falls in front of her face, you fix it gently, focusing on getting all the little dark strands out of the way, tucking them behind her ear.

“My name is Kara. I’m going to visit you again, next week, same time as this. I want to be your friend, and if you want to have a break from here, I can arrange a day out. In the future…I don’t know, but I want to make sure you’re going to be alright, Laura. When my parents died, my cousin dumped me in a home I didn’t know, with people I didn’t know, in a country, on a planet…my home was gone. It’s gone. But I made a new one, and I got another mom, and another dad, and even a sister. If you ever find that, _more_…I want to see it. I want to know you feel safe, that you have somewhere and someone to trust, to go to.”

“Could…could you adopt me?”

Your heart flips in your chest, and the idea makes you feel lighter, full of joy. “Maybe. Some day. But I want to get to know you. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, repeating your words, before repeating them again, differently. “Okay. So, this time next week, you’ll come again?”

“Yes. I’ll come this time, next week. If I’m late or going to be late, I’ll call. But I’ll still come. I promise, Laura.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

* * *

It’s a little unnerving how the DEO knows your every move, every second of the day, so long as you aren’t using your powers to cheat out of using public transport. It’s doubly unnerving when J’onn approaches you _outside_ of the DEO, at Noonans, even, and asks when you thought about having children.

“I didn’t,” you say, at first, genuinely confused about the question.

“You go to a foster-home every Saturday afternoon – and you’ve been going there for a few weeks now, over a month. There’s not much other reason to go to a foster-home other than, well…fostering or adopting a child.”

“Oh,” you copy Laura’s reaction to how she realised that _Supergirl_ was visiting her, but with a little more feeling. “J’onn, I…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Kara,” he says after you trail off. “You’re nearly thirty. To a human, it’s odd either not to have a child, or to start thinking about it around this time, and you’ve been on Earth long enough to assimilate some…aspects, of their culture.”

You sigh and feel the need to explain, but you don’t- you don’t want to get into it. You don’t want to have to explain Laura to him, how she reminds you of yourself. Instead, you talk about her in the abstract, as if you didn’t know her before the foster-home and your visits. You talk about how well she’s doing in school despite her parents’ accident and how she wants to get her hair cut, because her fringe is getting too long and she wants to dye it blonde.

“I said I liked her hair brown though, so she decided she wants to dip-dye it instead – y’know, like, get the ends done in different colour, or something.”

J’onn smiles fondly at you, looking to his coffee, “You seem to get on very well. Maybe I will get to meet her someday.”

“I think she’d like you,” is your reply, before you get a text that distracts you. “Ugh. Snapper. I wonder what he wants. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye, Kara,” J’onn stands as you leave, nodding to you as you walk to the exit. You really _do_ wonder what Snapper needs now and make your way into CatCo, remembering not to go straight to Cat’s office as you go to the reporting room.

“Finally!” The reporting room is bustling, and you connect the dots as you see the bulletin board full of paper clippings and photographs about Lex Luthor’s breakout. “I need you to go to Metropolis for the week, find someone other than James Olsen who knows Superman. We need his statement, preferably independent from his statement to the Daily Planet.”

_Easy,_ you puff your chest up, smiling. “My cousin is Clark Kent – I can get a quote from him by the end of the day.”

Snapper, who was turning away, freezes, before sliding back around to stare at you. “Your cousin is Clark _Kent?_”

“…yes?”

“You have his _phone number?_ What about Lois Lane? Do you have hers too?”

“Obviously, she’s Clark’s wife,” you say, rather confused about the whole issue. “We do Fourth of July together. I babysat Mike last time I was over.”

Snapper seems to have some sort of frustration-attack, before he points a rolled-up magazine at you. “Phone him. Now. From the privacy of your fancy office. Get a quote from Superman by the end of the day. I used to work with the sneaky bastard – I know how he works. If you don’t get one, you’re fired.”

“Okay…” you step back, leaving the reporting room. Soon, you have a quote from Clark, and you return, giving it to Snapper, who sticks it on a piece of A4 at the top of the bulletin board. He orders you about a few more hours, getting you to do this and that, before finally letting you off with an order to write a couple of columns in the place of an absentee journalist.

When you visit Laura that weekend, she has dip-dyed hair done a golden blonde just like your own, that fades into her natural brown. At the sight, you smile, knowing your money had been put to good use. The attendant even lets you out with Laura to the nearby park, making you agree to a return at half past four.

…which is where Maggie maybe accidentally ambushes you.

“What are you doing here with a kid, little Danvers?” She questions, leaving you speechless. Laura, who you’d been chasing, looks back to see you halt and approaches, taking your hand. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey. Who’re you?” Laura looks at you, “Does she know?”

“Uh…not about this. Remember Alex, my sister? This is her girlfriend, Maggie.”

Laura looks back at the detective, waving a little. “I’m Laura. Kara’s my friend.”

“Your friend, right…Kara, did you kidnap a kid?”

“No, of course not!” You deny, glaring a little. “I got permission and everything. We have to be back at half four.”

“Yeah, and if Kara doesn’t answer her phone, then Ms Reece would call the police. You’re the closest to the park, so you’d probably be called, I suppose,” Laura glances at Maggie’s badge, making you feel slightly proud, because you hadn’t told her Maggie was a cop.

“Right…does Alex know you’re taking kids out for walks, little Danvers?”

“She’s my sister, not my keeper,” you frown, inexplicably holding Laura’s hand tighter. “Why does Alex have to know everything about what I do in my spare time? It’s not as if you guys are adopting kids that I’d coddle and spoil.”

Bringing that subject up with Maggie makes her uncomfortable enough to leave, but you’re perfectly well aware that Maggie’s going to tell Alex. Laura picks up on your mood and helpfully suggests ice-cream, which brings you back up, but by the time you drop her back off to the foster-home, you’re thinking about it again. _I should have told Alex_, you think with a wince as J’onn sends a text warning you that Alex was using DEO resources to check your coordinates for vague purposes, her mind screaming out to the world _why is Kara hanging out with one single random kid from a care-home?_

By the time you arrive home – late, late because you’d eaten out at four different places trying to stall, ignoring Alex’s calls and text-messages – Alex is waiting. She sits on your sofa, watching an episode of _Keeping Up With the Kardashians_.

“That’s not what my TV is supposed to be used for – it doesn’t like trash-TV,” you try to stay normal as Alex flicks it off, not even trying. “Ice-cream?” You hide behind the freezer door, trying to think of an explanation, an excuse that doesn’t involve screaming-

“You want kids. You’re lonely. Why didn’t you tell me, Kara? I _knew_ I shouldn’t have talked about my own issues-”

“No!” You yelp, standing up straight, “No, Alex, no, _no_.” You shut the freezer, hands empty of ice-cream as you rush over. “Alex, it wasn’t like that, I- you should _always_ have space to talk about your own issues. I didn’t- I didn’t tell you because this is something that Laura and I are working through ourselves. She’s nearly ten, and she’s wonderful, and she’s old enough to have her own thoughts on me just taking her in and-”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Alex interrupts, “Were you ever going to consider the consequences? Adopting a kid is- is something we’ve _never_ talked about, Kara, except that time where you explained the Codex.”

“I know, Alex,” you squish a pillow, “I want to do this, Alex, if Laura does. I visit her every weekend. We talk, most times, sometimes we go out on supervised trips – today was the first time we went alone, and then Maggie showed up-”

“Maggie’s having a mid-life crisis now, I think you should know,” Alex interrupts, “She’s never wanted kids and I never wanted kids, but we didn’t know that about each other until today. We decided we’re getting a dog next year, if we last that long, to sort of make it permanent.”

“Ooh, what kind of dog?” Your mind switches to balls of fur and happy doggy grins, but Alex knocks that out of your head.

“No, no, we’re talking about you and- Laura, was it?”

“Laura,” you nod, smile fading a little, wistful rather than joyous. “Her parents died during Myriad.”

“Oh,” Alex pauses briefly, “Have you told her Astra’s part in it?”

“No. I told her- I told her it was the aliens from Fort Rozz though. The second time I met her, I told her a family member was put in there, said it was a space-prison. She might work it out, at some point, maybe…but Astra’s dead now. I don’t want to talk about it all, really. I’ve left that part of myself behind me, nearly. Helping Laura is helping me, in a way, outside of fulfilling my motherly tendencies.”

Alex shakes her head disbelievingly, “I can’t believe you just said ‘motherly tendencies’. I have one word for you: Carter.”

“Carter is thirteen, much different from a nine year old!” You immediately protest, “And Carter was more interested in video games and escaping CatCo than forming a relationship with me.”

“So what do you do with Laura, then? What do you talk about?”

“Well, school, hair, normal things – I told her about my job. She likes to search for my name in _The Tribune_. I changed the name and address of my posted subscription.”

“The one you get for free?”

“Yep. She reads everything she can get her hands on. Her favourite book is _Matilda_, because she looks like Matilda from the movie, or she did, before she coloured her hair.”

“Coloured her hair? What colour?”

“Just blonde,” you wave it off shortly, before getting out your phone and bringing up your album. “Here she is.”

“Let’s see…oh, she’s nice. What did you tell her about me?”

“A couple of things, stuff you did as a teenager…”

“What?” Alex’s eyes widen, “Oh no, what did you tell her?”

You laugh and the night continues on. Alex pesters you, questioning your subject matter in your talks with Laura and asking where she’d live – your apartment doesn’t have enough rooms for two people. You had an answer for that question, surprisingly enough. Your neighbour in number 4C has a bigger apartment and is moving out soon to go live in Vancouver with her girlfriend. It’s got two more rooms than yours does, for only a couple hundred more dollars a month.

Eventually, Alex leaves. You make another dinner out of leftovers from the Chinese Alex had ordered while waiting for you, snacking on them in the bath, something you immediately regret as Supergirl is needed out in the city. When you return, your bath is cold and a stray breeze has knocked a pot of noodles in. The worst part is how you desperately need a wash, what with the dirt and smoke sticking to your skin.

The next day is your day off, of a sort – you’re only required to check in sometime after noon but before four o’clock – so you call up Winn and meet at an arcade. You’re playing pinball when the kids come streaming past you, ones you recognise in the back of your mind. It only clicks when you see one of the attendants and you half-abandon Winn to search for Laura.

“Kara?”

“What?”

“It’s your turn – what are you looking for?”

“Uh…a girl I know.” You turn back to the pinball machine and begin, trying and failing to focus on the ball after a call rings out.

“It’s Miss Danvers! Hey, Laura, your future foster-mom’s here!”

You jerk at the voice, accidentally denting the machine as you look up and around, eyes immediately falling on Laura as your hearing searches out her familiar – memorised – heartbeat. Her face lights up as she sees you, before she runs towards you and wraps her arms around your neck as you drop to receive her, smiling too.

“I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Me too,” you reply, before pulling back, “How you doing, creampuff?”

“I’m good, I’m having lots of fun – I’m using up my pocket money.”

“Awesome, wanna play pinball?”

Laura opens her mouth to reply, before her eyes flicker to Winn as he coughs. “Uh, is that your friend?”

You glance at Winn, suddenly hesitant. “Yeah, he’s my friend. He and I were playing pinball but I got distracted…”

“Can I play too?” She asks Winn, who slowly nods. You move out of the way, letting her play your next round, before Winn grabs your arm.

“You know this kid?”

“Yeah, I visit her in-” you stop talking, but Winn fills the gaps, grip loosening.

“You’re looking in foster-homes for a kid? And she- the other kid said-”

“I know what they said,” you interrupt.

“Does she know you’re…” he trails off, motioning to the ceiling. You nod. His eyes widen. “You told a _kid?_”

“I trust her.”

He might have continued, but Laura drags your attention away from him. “Kara, can I play again?”

The attendant finds you soon afterwards. You exchange pleasantries, but once again you’re distracted by Laura, who asks for an opponent for a nearby tabletop game. You play with her and Winn joins in soon enough, though mostly it’s the two of you and when she leaves, you go to the bar with Winn for food and drinks.

“You were amazing today.”

“Huh?” You look up from your ketchup-slathered-fries. “How?”

Winn rolls his eyes, “I meant with the girl, Laura. If I hadn’t known better I would have said you were her mom.”

You flush a little, “I’m not her mom.”

“I know that, but it was _like_ you were. It’s good you found her. Not a lot of kids in the care system get it that good. I didn’t.”

And all of a sudden, you remember that Winn had been in the foster system. More than just guilt wells up in you at that. It’s something like- like second-hand kinship. Or maybe even first-hand. He knows what it’s like to not have parents, to feel betrayed by your parents.

“You were nine,” you remember, focusing on that. “Laura’s nine. She’ll be ten soon, but still…”

“What happened to her?”

“Myriad, her parents were in their car when they were taken over, coming back from a party. They were going pretty fast and Myriad…they were walking about with these injuries, died a few minutes in, or so say the security cameras. Laura was with a babysitter.”

“Oh…” Winn plays with his fries, quiet. “You aren’t trying to replace them, are you? Be her parent instead of them?”

“No. I’m trying to be her friend. If I end up fostering her, or adopting her…IDK, Winn. It’s in the future. I’d rather focus on the now. Her parents are dead and I can’t replace them, I can’t _ever_ replace them. You know I wouldn’t even try.”

“Yeah.” Winn nods. “You looked good with each other today. She really trusts you.”

“Thank-you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. That’s a good kid you’ve got there, I think at least.”

You smile, “You think?” You laugh a little, before finishing the last of your drink and the last bundle of fries. “Come on, a little girl stole me today – let’s go back to the arcade. I have to beat you at pinball.”

“You never will!” Winn brings along his paper box of fries, following after you as you head back on into the games.

* * *

Cat is leaving. Laura frowns when you pick her up from school the next day, apologising for how distracted you are.

“What’s the matter?” the girl questions and you hesitate, before pulling up a leg onto the bus-seat, holding it tight to yourself as you explain.

“My boss, Cat, she’s leaving. She needs to dive…there was a metaphor, in a conversation we had,” you briefly extrapolate, at Laura’s confused face. “She needs to find herself. Personally, I think she might be having a mid-life crisis, but-” Your phone pings and Cat’s ears must have been twitching at your conversation, half way around the globe, because she’s texted you, complaining about silk sticking to skin in hot weather.

Laura peers at the text, reaching and prodding at the keyboard to reply, asking where she is. Cat’s answer: Egypt. You give Laura your phone so she can talk to Cat, arm settling around her back warmly as you lean slightly, dropping your head to her shoulder to watch. Ten minutes later however, after answering Laura’s litany of questions, your boss phones you and you widen your eyes as Laura answers, putting it to her ear.

“Kara’s phone.”

“Laura, give that to me,” you order, holding out your hand, not wanting to hurt her by trying to grab it. But Laura doesn’t give it over, just looking at you with a determined expression.

“_Who is this? Were you the one querying me about my travels? Why has a child got Kara’s phone, in any case?_”

“I’m Laura, Laura Danvers,” Laura says and you stare, struck dumb by her introduction. “She’s my foster-mom, or she will be, soon.”

“…_Kara Danvers is fostering a child. Of course. Sweetie, would you please give the phone back to your mother?_”

“Nice to meet you, Cat,” Laura chirps before handing over your phone. You stare at her for a few more seconds before bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hi,” your voice is surprisingly croaky and your eyes fill up unexpectedly. Rushing to wipe them, you and Laura share small, happy nervous expressions, your arm wrapping around her where she sits in the bus seat. “How are you, Cat?”

“_Shocked. I knew something was going on with your life, before I left, something new…but I didn’t expect it to be a child._” Cat’s voice is soft, by the end of her sentence. “_What’s she like?_”

“Surprising. All the time. There’s always something new about her to learn.”

“_I’d imagine the same could be said for you, though in my experience, children are more about feeling than knowing detailed personal anecdotes, when it comes to their parents._”

“I’m taking her home from school, right now. She’s staying the weekend.”

“_Congratulations, Kara._”

“Thank-you, Cat.” You see your neighbourhood approaching through the bus window and shuffle about, moving to stand. “I’ve got to go, now.”

“_Of course. Goodbye. We can talk more about your personal life at a later date._”

“Sure. Bye.” You hang up as you press the button to stop the bus, Laura picking up her schoolbag from the floor as the bus slows to a halt on your street. Your phone goes into your pocket, a hot reminder of Cat Grant as you smile at your future foster daughter, happy.

“C’mon, precious, let’s go home.”


End file.
